My farmer laughed and got in.

"You see," I said, "when a member of my society is in distress I always
like to help him out."

He paused; I watched him gradually evolve his reply:

"How did you know I was a Mason?"

"Well, I wasn't _sure_."

"I only joined last winter," he said. "I like it first-rate. When you're
a Mason you find friends everywhere."

I had some excellent remarks that I could have made at this point, but
the distance was short and bolts were irresistibly uppermost. After
helping him to put in the bolt, I said:

"Here's the grip of fellowship."

He returned it with a will, but afterward he said doubtfully.

"I didn't feel the grip."

"Didn't you?" I asked. "Well, Brother, it was all there."

"If ever I can do anything for you," he said, "just you let me know.
Name's Forbes, Spring Brook."